Crushing Krisis

Comic Books, Drag Race, & Life in New Zealand

linkylove

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So, i’m in Florida. Hi.


Florida is entirely queer is basically what i’ve decided. I feel like an endless cliche saying things like “well, in Philly…” every other sentence, but it’s honestly a entirely different culture than what i’m used to. Case and point: cars. Most of the peope i know at Drexel have their licenses, because where they live they basically need a car to get from anywear to anywhere. However, these people mostly don’t bring their cars to Philly … there’s just no point in it.


Here if you don’t have a car you’re stranded. Going to the movies last night was utterly unaccomplishable via bus. Getting to the airport would involve a pricey cab ride or a ride to an out of the way rail-station and then a pricey cab ride. Today was like the Greatest-Hits of lacking public transportation: getting to see Martha involved a lengthy car ride to the out of the way train-station, followed up by a doubly pricey cab ride down the highway. And then i got lost in Jupiter.

Well, really, this tiny development inside of Jupiter that gives one the impression that there was a Disney race in Starcraft who came to Earth to colonize our territory. It’s not exactly the town of Celebration, but’s it’s got that pastel-and-stucco, pre-fab, homogeonized-milk sortof feeling to it. Which, was even creepier when i thought the entire thing was Martha’s college, but then she informed me that it was really just one big creepy pre-fabricated expensive housing development — where you can pretend that you live in an amalgamated every-state of the USA minus anything with a population density higher than… oh, shit, what the hell do i know about population density.


But, anyway, now playtime is over and i have to do the pricey two-hours journey back to the geriatric imprisonment that is my grandmother’s condominium.

On the bright side, Martha is as obsessed with Buffy as i am, and tomorrow i’m having lunch with JillMatrix!!! Rock on!

https://crushingkrisis.com/2001/12/8085417/

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For all of you who’ve read the Plagiarism post: yes, i am aware that the offending site is back in operation. A quick Tom-aided perusal revealed similarly stolen posts from Paul Jarvis, Amy @ TeamMonkey, the venerable MegNut, Christine @ Maganda.Org, and TheBooge. I’ve notified all of the authors and have begun correspondence with the owner of Bellylicious; please refrain from harassing her — i posted her address only because i thought her site was down, not because i wanted to attract attention to her. However, i never edit things out of my posts, so it’s going to stay there.

https://crushingkrisis.com/2001/12/7993721/

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Why, yes, life is exactly like that. However did you know?


Ah, the joys of our wondrous network of over-taxed collegiate bloggers. And, look, it only took three years of college to leave me vaguely stressed out.

Last night i came home miserable, which hardly surprised me — any day started off with a Venti Latté is bound to end up in tears or with me bouncing down the sidewalk like a Mexican jumping bean. Anyhow, my favorite two ways to cure misery are spending money and eating (yes, i know, it’s a very health set of habits). However, my attempt at the former was foiled by the bookstore ordering the wrong edition of the book i needed, so when i got home i was ready to do some serious binge-eating. At my disposal i had ice cream, ramen, pop-tarts, and all other manner of collegiate waste. Did i go for any of that? Nooooo. No, instead i decided to order a gastro-intenstinal nightmare sandwich with a side of cardiac arrest.


AKA : chicken cheesesteak w/extra cheese and a large side of cheese fries. Yes, you’re right, i could never be a vegan. Thanks for noticing.

Chicken cheesesteaks are a phenomenon i was just introduced to last year when i finally came off my vegetarian kick, and they’ve been one of the junkfood mainstays of my diet ever since. Somehow the two or three places where i obtain this death on a bun use incredibly lean and well cooked chicken, which is exactly why i don’t eat the beef variety: they’re nasty. However, the establishment i ordered from last night doesn’t use that lean, healthy chicken, but instead something i am currently referring to as “cheef.” Sure, it tasted nice and carnivorous on the way down, but not even a protective layer of deep fried potatos and cheese wiz could protect me from the wratch of cheef.


Said wrath basically is that over 24hours later my stomach is still twisted in knots in an attempt to cleanse itself from the greasy chow i crammed into it last night, and the only two options i’m seriously contemplating right now are an immediate switch to vegetarianism to placate my distressed digestive system, or a slightly more sinister plan than involves a lot of porcelain.

https://crushingkrisis.com/2001/11/7493884/